


Valentine's Boxes, Dum Dum Lollipops and Tag

by OriginalCeenote



Category: Archie Comics
Genre: Archies!kids, Beggie, Betty likes them anyway, Crushes, F/M, High School, Jughead is a Good Bro, Pining, Reggie is too, Valentine's Day, Veronica's a brat, Whining
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-06
Updated: 2015-03-07
Packaged: 2018-03-10 18:02:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3298970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OriginalCeenote/pseuds/OriginalCeenote
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Beggie. Everything's less complicated in kindergarten.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Boys Stink

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note: Yes, yes, here I am with the Valentine's Day shmoopy three-shot. I have no shame. I'm an old married chick, talking with my coworkers today about "do you and your plus one do anything for Valentine's Day anymore?" The answer was either a resounding no, or in some cases, "I'm just planning to throw a steak under his nose and screw 'im. He'll be fine with that." No point in red Frederick's nighties just for the sake of a) giving him the best laugh he's ever had, or b) spending the money just for it to look really good laying on the floor in the corner in a crumpled, satiny heap.
> 
> I'm jaded. Just read it, already.

1981:

"I need the pink paper next." Veronica leaned over Betty's shoulder and nudged her. "That's cute. Are there anymore Care Bears?" Betty nodded and handed her a sheet of small, glittering stickers. Half the sheet was empty. Ethel looked up and grinned from where she was applying Good Luck Bear to the side of her red-and-white carton.

"Where are the Barbie ones?"

"Over here." Midge peeled off the last one and handed it to her, stuck to her thumb and in danger of folding in half.

"Ooh. Careful." Ethel carefully wrested the tacky thing from Midge's fingers, trying not to tear it in half or fold it herself. "Next time, maybe give me the sheet..."

"It was the last one," Midge shrugged. She was doodling her name on her own carton in black crayon with big, loopy letters and outlining them with shiny silver ink. Betty resumed working on her carton, diligently cutting out puffy hearts from the pink construction paper with her safety scissors.

"Cut me some, too?" Veronica murmured plaintively. Betty nodded. It was just what they did. Betty liked helping Veronica, and Veronica validated that with claims that Betty was her bestest best friend and many, many more requests for help. Betty cut out twice the number of pink hearts that she would have and even spread paste onto their backs from the little glue sticks before handing them over. They leaned in close, the sleeve of Betty's white polka dotted turtleneck rubbing against Veronica's monogrammed sweater sleeve.

The boys sat across the way at one of the rectangular tables, gradually forgetting to use their indoor voices. Unlike the girls, their cartons were largely uncovered, but the larger sheets of construction paper were being repurposed as airplanes, origami cranes and, in Reggie's case, spitballs. Jughead was studiously sniffing the scented stickers, chancing licking one to see if it tasted like bubble gum, grimacing when it didn't, then licking it again just in case. To his left, Moose toyed with the glue sticks, and when no one was looking, bit off a clump. Of the six boys, Dilton was the only one actually working on decorating his carton, drawing pictures of insects and frogs on the white construction-papered surface. He added a couple of Batman and Transformer stickers just for pizzazz, painstakingly laying them on as straight as possible, squinting through his thick glasses, mouth hanging open in concentration.

Betty yelped in annoyance as something damp and prickly hit the back of her neck. "HEY!" She scowled at the small, red spitball that landed on the floor. "Mrs. Adams! They're throwing paper!" She pointed toward the boys' table. All of them were smirking except Dilton.

And Reggie, who was ducking behind his carton, one brown eye peering around the edge. Their teacher sighed in long-suffering defeat.

Of COURSE it was always little Reggie Mantle. He kept her hands full with citation slips and long parent-teacher meetings. The only one of her students who exceeded that was little Marmaduke, back in her class for a second year to get caught up, bless his heart... Mrs. Adams stopped by the girls' table, where Betty was raising her hand. "They're throwing spitballs," she told her, holding up the ammunition in question in her little palm. She plucked it up and headed to the boys' table. Chuck, Jughead and Dilton tried to look innocent; Moose hid the depleted glue stick behind his back. Archie beamed at her.

"It wasn't us," he lied easily.

"Nope. It wasn't," Reggie insisted, even though there was a red sheet of paper with ragged, crumpled edges by his hand, looking like bits of it had been torn off.

"I'd like to see you boys finishing your mailboxes, please. I want them ready for the party on Friday." She turned to Chuck and held out her hand. "I'll take that airplane, Charles."

"Aw, man!" Her lips twitched briefly at his dramatic whine, but she gave him a stern look over the edge of her glasses as she took his handiwork from him.

She called out to the rest of the class, "Who needs more stickers or more glue?" Moose's hand automatically went up. "No, Marmaduke."

"Awwwww...!"

 

Betty glared in the direction of the boys' table a few minutes later when she got hit with another spitball. "Quit it," she hissed.

"We're not doing anything," Reggie told her, feigning belligerence, but his eyes were gleaming. She narrowed her own baby blues.

"Ignore him," Veronica told her, but she was enjoying herself, watching Reggie trying to pull a fast one.

"He's being stupid," Betty whispered.

"Betty, you can't say that!" Ethel insisted hotly. "You'll get in trouble."

"Well, he is," she argued.

"He's gonna get in trouble," Nancy promised, and she rolled their eyes at Chuck, where he sat folding another paper airplane. "I'm gonna tell your daddy!" she called across the aisle. His eyes widened and he shook his head, holding a finger over his lips.

"DON'T!" Floyd Clayton was their little league coach and didn't take any nonsense. Nancy had a direct line to his dad's ear, since they went to the same church. He wouldn't admit that she looked cute with her hair in big twisty braids, pulled back with white bobble beads; she'd just lost another front tooth.

"Well, quit it, then!" It was Nancy's self-appointed job to keep that Chuckie Clayton in line. It didn't hurt that she enjoyed the job. She put the finishing touches on her own mailbox, scrawling her name across the bottom. Mrs. Adams' assistant hovered nearby, beaming when she saw Nancy set down her pen.

"That's wonderful. You did a lovely job! Someone's ready for their valentines." Nancy looked smug, nodding.

"Uh-huh."

"Is there anyone special you want a valentine from?" Mrs. Adams looked up and made throat-cutting motions, but it was too late.

"I'm gonna get one from Chuck." She pronounced this as though there was no question about the validity. Chuck ducked his head, then gave her his Sunday-best "SHUT UP" look.

Ten minutes later, Mrs. Adams clapped her hands and called out, "Class, time to clean up all of the paper, glue, stickers... put everything in their boxes on the back table. Everybody pitch in."

"I'm not done!" Veronica shrieked. "I ran out of stickers!"

"There isn't much room left on that mailbox, there," Mrs. Adams mentioned, but she recognized the pout. "Could we compromise? One more sticker and call it done, Ronnie?"

"Just one?" She looked put out, but when Mrs. Adams held up two sheets of stickers, Veronica pointed to the Smurf ones, peeling off a Smurfette and hastily mashing it onto the last remainined blank space on her mailbox. That did the trick.

"Okay! There's the bell! I want to see jackets and backpacks! I want to see clean desks and chairs put up! Then line up at the door. SINGLE FILE, Marmaduke! No shoving!"

All twenty kindergartners lined up noisy, squirming shuffle, buffeting against each other's backpacks and giving spare tires. Reggie rushed to the front of the line, elbowing his way in front of Betty. He stuck out his tongue at her. "Beat you," he bragged.

"So?" She turned away from him to talk to Veronica, but she felt a sharp tug on her braid. "OW!" She spun on him, but he already had his back turned. "Reg, QUIT IT!"

"I didn't do anything," he tossed over his shoulder.

"Yeah, he did," Jughead muttered.

"That's why I don't wear pigtails," Veronica murmured, trying to placate her, but Betty was flushed and annoyed.

"Stupid," she muttered under her breath.

"MRS. ADAMS! BETTY SAID STUPID!" Reggie cried gleefully.

"Someone wants a citation if we don't settle down," Mrs. Adams sang weakly. Her feet were tired, her neck ached, and she had enough of shouting from the previous five hours. The second bell rang, and they trooped outside.

Betty and Veronica automatically held hands once they went outside, and Reggie clipped Betty's shoulder roughly as he ran off to meet his dad in their caravan. "QUIT IT!" she yelled.

"I'M NOT DOING ANYTHING!" But as he ducked into the front seat and closed the door, he stuck his tongue out at her from the window before they drove off.

"I can't stand Reggie," Betty muttered.

"So don't give him a Valentine," Veronica shrugged.

"I'm supposed to," Betty reminded her. The classroom roster was tucked into her backpack, with explicit instructions for parents to send the exact number of cards, filled out with their child's name.

"I'm gonna give Archie a special valentine," Veronica informed her smugly. Betty felt a plume of jealousy billowing in her stomach.

"I am, too."

"You can't!" Veronica insisted.

"Yes, I can!" Veronica's cheeks flushed a hectic shade of pink, and she squeezed Betty's hand tightly, as she was already holding it.

"Mine's gonna be more special!"

"No, mine will!"

"I'm not gonna be your friend anymore!" Betty wrested her hand free.

"I don't wanna be your friend anyway! You're a stinky friend!"

"Well... you're STUPID!" The discussion had to be tabled; Jeeves, the Lodge's chauffeur, honked from the circular driveway. Hermione Lodge lowered the back window of the Rolls-Royce and waved.

"I'm telling my mommy!" Veronica huffed.

"Well, GOOD!" Betty marched off to where her sister Polly was waiting on the edge of the playground fence. She looked like she was trying hard not to laugh, but she straightened up as Betty approached.

"Someone's got a case of the mads," she suggested. "How was your day, baby girl?"

"Veronica's a stinky jerk." Her pout validated this. Polly stroked Betty's towhead blond pigtails fondly.

"No, no, no... she's not stinky. She's your favorite."

"No, she's not." Polly sighed as they climbed into her modest Civic. Her journalism school schedule allowed her more time to pick Betty up from school than her mother had while wrangling chores. Polly felt nostalgic whenever she stopped by Riverdale Elementary and saw the kids scrambling around the playground, playing four-square, kickball, hopscotch, climbing the wrong way up the slide, or hogging their favorite bar on the jungle gym. It was so uncomplicated, so pure, and it made her feel wistful. Polly helped her little sister buckle herself into the car and snuck looks at her on the ride home.

"Need a trip to Pop's? Will a float make it better?"

"No." Betty was still in a mood to pout, but Polly wiggled it under her nose again.

"No? Root beer won't do that trick?"

"I'm mad," Betty pronounced, but she watched her sister drive, staring at her hands. "When I'm big like you, I'm never gonna have stinky friends."

"Big people have stinky friends sometimes, kiddo. And that includes stinky boys."

"Boys ARE stinky," Betty agreed with a grudging hint of a smile.

"All of them?" Polly's blue eyes twinkled in amusement.

"Like Reggie," Betty told her. "He's stupid."

"Betty, that's not nice."

"Well, he is! He keeps throwing spitballs at me, and pulling my hair, and cutting in line in front of me! He squirted me at the water fountain and acted like he didn't do it."

"He sounds pretty stinky," Polly agreed. And pretty smitten, she didn't add.

"Archie doesn't do that," she insisted.

"Doesn't he live down the street? The little boy with the red hair and freckles." Betty nodded solemnly, picking at the lavender strap of her My Little Pony backpack. "He's not stinky?"

"Not like Reggie," Betty told her. "He's not mean."

"Ahhhh. Got it."

Polly almost drove past the intersection that would take her to Main Street, until Betty exclaimed, "I thought we were getting a float!" Polly rolled her eyes and doubled back to the intersection.

Five-year-olds were so fickle...

*

The following night, Betty and Polly sat at the kitchen table, studiously gluing pink and red construction paper hearts to white paper doilies. Polly was in charge of cutting and glue, while Betty taped a Dum Dum lollipop to the center of each doily and scrawled "From Betty" on each with red marker. Polly tried not to laugh at Betty's cute look of concentration with each one, chewing on her little pink lip, being meticulous with her strips of scotch tape as she tacked down each skinny stick.

Polly watched, fascinated, as Betty constructed her "special valentine" for that Andrews kid. Scratch and sniff stickers, glitter glue, THREE dum-dums and a swirly signature later, and the masterpiece was finished. She'd gone all out, Polly mused. "That looks nice," she told her.

"It's nicer than Veronica's."

"Probably." Nothing like a green-eyed monster to make you diss your bestie. "Have you talked to her?"

"I played four-square with Nancy. She played hopscotch. She's not my friend anymore." There went the pout again, and her little voice held a hint of regret.

"Awwww. Not anymore? Never ever?"

"Never EVER ever."

"That sounds harsh. Who are you gonna play Barbies with?"

"Nancy and Ethel, but they don't have Golden Dream Barbie. They both just have Malibu Barbie."

"That's not the same."

"It's not," Betty agreed. "Veronica lets me play with Golden Dream Barbie so she can drive the Corvette. Ronnie's daddy just bought it."

"Must be nice." Ronnie's daddy bought everything. So, she was a little spoiled... "Well, Beans, I hope things aren't as stinky tomorrow. Hope this Archie kid likes your valentine, too."

"He'd better like it more than hers." Polly just smiled as she resumed her work with the scissors.

*

To Betty's credit, his eyes lit up when he pulled the lacy, candy covered thing out of his mailbox. Unfortunately, Veronica hauled out the big guns, laying a huge greeting card in a bright, red envelope beside his mailbox because it wouldn't fit, along with a red heart-shaped box of candy.

Betty was still pouting when she grudgingly delivered the rest of her valentines, dropping one into each box. Nancy and Ethel beamed. Jughead gave her a thumbs-up as he munched on his lollipop. Chuck folded the tiniest possible origami crane out of the wrapper.

And Reggie crumpled his into a spitball and hit her in the back of the neck with it. He wouldn't cop to it. Betty was still fuming by the time the last bell rang. Veronica rubbed it in.

"He liked mine better," she bragged.

"I don't care." Betty pretended to be waiting for Polly, scanning the playground, the fence, the parking lot and anywhere but her bestie's smug face. But of course she was crushed. Veronica wasn't one for subtle clues, and she prattled on.

"What did you think of yours?"

"Of what?"

"The one I gave you?" Betty scrambled in her backpack for the mailbox, now slightly crumpled. She dug out the box and rooted through all of the little cards and candies. "Didn't you open it?" Her voice sounded indignant and confused.

"Guess not." Betty wasn't about to budge an inch, feeling a mean little spark of umbrage. "I'll look at it later, I guess."

"But-"

"Polly's here for me," Betty told her as soon as she spied her driving up, three cars back in the circular driveway. "Bye!"

"You didn't open it! Betty! BETTY!" Veronica stomped her foot as Betty darted off, backpack bouncing against her and a mean little smirk on her lips. When she reached the car, Polly looked up in surprise from her commuter cup as she took a sip. Betty practically hurled herself into the seat and slammed the door quickly. "Whoa, whoa! Not so hard! What's the rush?"

"Let's go home," Betty demanded. "Quick!"

"Um... okay." Polly looked around the playground and saw a few things that spelled everything out for her at a glance. Veronica was off to the side, staring after Betty with her Sunday best gonna-have-a-meltdown face, cheeks growing alarmingly pink. A few feet away, Archie - that had to be him, how many redheads could Betty have in her class? - was dutifully tearing a Dum-Dum pop from the valentine Betty had slaved over ... and handing it to a skinny, dark-haired boy next to him wearing a gray beanie.

Polly was about to comment, but the sound of a slapping sound and a high-pitched "Nyeah-NYEAHHH!" scared her out of her wits, and Betty yelped. That little Mantle kid planted his hands against Betty's window and stuck his tongue out at her, steaming up the glass. He continued to make faces, thumbs stuck in his ears.

"YOU STINK, REGGIE!"

"Hey, Reggie. Yes, that's impressive, hands off my glass... it's not sanitary. Happy Valentine's Day," Polly told him dryly. Betty didn't go that far; she stuck out her tongue as Polly drove away. Reggie looked way too pleased with himself as he ran to his dad's car, Polly thought.

She found herself scolded again at the intersection when she tried to turn left instead of going down Main. Lunch consisted of fries and consolation floats at Pop's, and resuming their discussion that boys stink, and how Russell Stover candy boxes just weren't that great...

Were they.

*

Veronica Lodge was the one to wave the white flag of truce in the Great Valentine's Candy War of 1981 with an indignant phone call.

"I thought you were coming over after lunch." Betty twirled the phone cord idly, torn.

"You didn't tell me I was." She didn't word it as "You didn't ask." That wasn't how their friendship worked.

"You didn't look at your valentine?" Betty sighed.

"Guess I didn't."

"Some friend YOU are, Betty Cooper!" She slammed the phone down, ending the call. Betty chafed as she set down the receiver, then headed for her backpack. She fished out the mailbox and set it down in the middle of the kitchen table, then began to empty it, laying out each card.

There was Moose's, with the 'S' in his name written backwards; Dilton's, a safe little card with puppies on it, written in his best block print; Chuck's, with a pencil sketch of a hot rod and flames in the corner; she smiled at that one; Nancy's, little Garfield cards stating that he loved her more than lasagna itself; Ethel's Ziggy card with a little box of heart candies taped to the envelope; and Juggie's, with more puppies, but the little envelope looked like whatever candy that might have been taped to it had been torn off, if the little shredded flap of paper on it was any indication.

She almost missed Archie's. It was... unremarkable. Nice, but not... special. A very generic blue rocket ship with a puffy yellow cloud of exhaust blowing out of the bottom of it wished her an "out of this world Valentine's Day!" She looked at the back of it. Just his first initial with a period. Certainly no "Love, Archie." Betty made a low noise of disappointment and went through the rest of her cards.

...aaaaaaand there was Reggie's. The card had an otherwise cute little monkey on the front of it, scratching its head and armpit, but beneath it, scrawled in Reggie's slanty letters, it said "This is YOU." Betty gaped, then shook her head.

"What a creep," she muttered. The back side's lettering said "Going banana's for you, Valentine!" It was silly, which she could appreciate, but still... Reggie just thought he was hilarious.

Betty wondered briefly if Veronica's card had received similar treatment. She wished she'd asked when she called earlier... not that she cared, of course. It wasn't like they were still friends, or anything. Yet the kitchen felt too quiet and empty, and Betty was at a loss for what to do. The lunch dishes were cleared away, and she'd already finished watching Casper. Her mother was in the backyard pulling weeds, and Polly was in the living room working on an article for her class, asking Betty to be a big girl and give her some peace.

She found the last valentine card, the biggest one in the pile, with Veronica's name in pretty, curly handwriting with little flowers on the back of the envelope. Well, of course it was, Betty mused; she would only give her the fanciest card possible. Betty tore open the envelope and found the fancy card, certainly, but when she opened it, three pieces of paper fell out.

One was a handwritten note: Don't forget to bring your Kissing Pretty Barbie over today. Footloose starts at 3.

The second was a drawing of two little girls, one with long black hair and wearing a pink headband, and the other with yellow - blonde - pigtails in a blue skirt. "Best friends forever. Love, Ronnie" trailed across the top of it.

The third was a movie ticket for the three o'clock matinee. Guilt knotted Betty's stomach, and she stared at the phone. "Oh, boy," she muttered aloud. Polly entered the kitchen and went to the fridge for some milk.

"What's wrong, kiddo?"

"Um... could you take me to Ronnie's house?"

"Ronnie, not your best friend anymore Ronnie?" Polly clarified.

"Um... well..."

"Go ahead and get your coat. And your scarf. It's cold out."

"I need my Barbies."

"And your Barbies," Polly agreed, smirking at Betty's check list. The smirk turned into a grin as Betty stomped up the steps, followed by scuffling that she could hear through the ceiling, then her sister stomping back down, hat and jacket on, Barbies clenched in her fists. Polly tucked the movie ticket into her pocket and let her sister practically drag her to the car.

Never, never ever was blessedly brief.


	2. You're It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Middle school sucks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's no excuse for this shmoop. There really isn't.

1986:

Betty watched Ethel and Midge take their turns at the tetherball pole during second recess, knowing how it would end. Almost no one beat Midge. Ethel had the height advantage, but Midge was quicker and had a harder slap. Ethel's eyes widened and she began to get that panicked look as the ball's rope whipped and wrapped around the pole faster than she could swat it back. "Darn it, DARN IT!" Ethel shrieked. Midge grinned as the ball wrapped the rest of the pole, bobbing accusingly at the unfair matchup. "You ALWAYS beat me!"

"You're getting a little better," Midge told her, but her smile was gleeful.

"You are!" Betty agreed, but Ethel greeted this with a heavy, doubtful sigh.

"Maybe I should just stick to four-square..." But both courts were occupied, with several girls in line to play next.

Her decision was interrupted by a flying red kickball that bounced off the back of Betty's head, knocking her ponytail slightly crooked. "OW!" Midge hissed in empathy, grimacing as she caught the ball. 

"Oops," Betty heard a hated voice call out, sounding less than apologetic. She answered Reggie's smirk with a scowl.

"JERK!"

"I didn't do it on purpose!"

"Did, too!" Reggie tsked and shook his head, but his dark eyes were twinkling. He shrugged, then held out his hands expectantly. 

"Throw it back, already!"

"Ooh...!" Betty grabbed the ball as it bounced along the gravel and hurled it overhand, aiming for his head. He merely stepped back, laughing as he caught it against his chest.

"You throw like a girl!"

"Jerk!" But he ran off, and Betty felt her cheeks flaming with exasperation. He rejoined the kickball game already underway, and her attention strayed for a moment to a familiar head of carroty hair. Betty caught Archie's eye. He waved briefly, giving her a lopsided smile. Betty's face softened slightly as she waved back. The recess bell rang, and all three girls groaned a futile "awwwww!" as they lined up to go back inside. Betty fumed to herself, seeing Reggie out of the corner of her eye and trying to ignore him, but he doubled back and yanked her ponytail hard enough to make it smart. "Ooh! YOU!" She swatted at him, but he was too quick. Mr. Taylor blew his whistle to round everyone up, walking down the line of squirming fifth graders, shooing everyone into single file and doing a head count. Still fuming, Betty followed her class inside, knowing that Reggie was smirking a few feet behind her, and that she couldn't take umbrage.

Veronica fell in step behind her, cutting in line to catch up to her bestie. "Where were you?" Betty demanded.

"At the kickball field." Betty looked perturbed.

"Playing kickball?"

"No. I did my nails." Veronica waggled her fingers, gleaming with a fresh coat of pink Tinkerbell polish. She withdrew her hand before Betty could poke one shiny oval. "Don't. They're still wet." Betty made a face.

"Sorry." Then Betty realized where she'd been. "By the kickball field?"

"Uh-huh." As they walked inside, Veronica nodded imperiously at the door. "Hold that open for me! My nails are wet!" Betty obliged, letting her sashay in before her. "I saw Reggie hit you with the ball. He did it on purpose."

"I knew that," Betty said sourly.

"He's a jerk," Veronica said dismissively. "You should've hung out with me."

"Ethel and Midge asked me to play tetherball." Betty was allowed to spend time with her other friends, wasn't she? "You could've come." Veronica shrugged.

"I was busy." They paused at the water fountain and each took a quick sip, with Betty dutifully holding down the button to protect Ron's manicure. "Look," she whispered, nodding over Betty's shoulder. "No! Don't let him SEE you looking!"

"Who?"

"Archie, dummy!" Of course, Betty had to chance a peek over her shoulder, cheeks flaming pink instantly when she caught Archie's blue eyes staring in their general direction. His just as quickly flitted away.

"Told you not to look," Veronica insisted in an angry whisper.

"Sorry," she rasped back, and the two of them darted off into their classroom. Betty was both relieved and disappointed that he wasn't in their class that year. Recess provided opportunities to satisfy her hunger for brief glimpses of him, fleeting, awkward smiles and waves. She vacillated between mentally urging him to look her way and burning up with embarrassment when he actually did. Was it possible to want to sink into the floor and be bubbling and ecstatic at the same time?

The urge to talk to him warred with her constant worry that she was trying too hard. Her sister Polly urged her to play it cool where boys were concerned. “Let ‘em wonder.” But it was hard to try to seem like she wasn't eager, when truthfully… Yeah, she was pretty eager. So, on those occasions when he was close by, and she worked up enough nerve to speak, her brain turned to jelly. Her name, the time of day, what she’d had for breakfast, it all went out the window as soon as he turned those baby blues on her.

“Hey, Bets.”

“Adhhjuyrrdcvrggghh…"

Yeah. That was smooth.

Sometimes, it was more along the lines of,

“Hey, Bets.”

“Um, hey. Um, Arch. Yeah. Heyyyyy… So, whatcha doin’? Um…”

“Getting lunch.” Amusement would toy with the corner of his mouth, and she would flush even redder.

“Lunch. Yeah, cool. Pudding. That’s… Cool.” Then she added, “Pudding.” She was grasping for straws now that she had his attention and flailing.

“Vanilla,” he shrugged. But then something caught his eye over his shoulder, and Veronica’s familiar purr obliterated any connection Betty made in an instant.

“Hello, Archiekins.”

“Adhhjuyrrdcvrggghh…” his eyes glazed over and mouth hung open a little. Betty took that moment to skedaddle. Veronica was her best friend, and Betty completely resented her. Funny how that worked…

What Betty couldn't appreciate at that point in her young life was that the boy she wanted to impress was the one she had the hardest time talking to.

 

Reggie watched her from his seat in the back of the row where she was bent over her decimal problems. He studied her hair, still drawn back in its neat ponytail - maybe a centimeter off center after getting hit by the kickball - and gleaming a bright blonde under the room's fluorescent lights. Once in a while, he caught her taking notes that Veronica snuck her while the teacher wrote on his blackboard. Reggie sometimes regretted his spot in the back for the simple reason that it was harder to intercept them and to peek at their gossip.

Once in a while, it was about him. Maybe not "Reggie's cute," which would have been nice, so much as "That Reggie thinks he's so great." Didn't bother him a bit. It meant she _noticed_ him.

Didn't it?

His cheeks warmed at the thought and he developed a funny little tingle. Reggie quietly tore out a half a sheet of his notebook paper and began to fold a triangular football out of it. He caught Moose's smirk when he glanced around to make sure no one was looking, and he smirked back, raising a finger to his lips. Moose shrugged and went back to doodling in the margins of his math book instead of working on his equations.

Reggie poised the football atop his desk, balancing it on one point with his index finger and lined up his shot. Her blonde head made an ideal - and rather cute - target. Excitement over her pending reaction, namely getting her attention, danced in his gut. He just had to wait. One more second. The teacher's back was turned... just a moment more...

THWAP!

He thrilled when he heard her little gasp that stopped just short of a shriek and saw her jerk in her seat, her small hand automatically reaching up to cover her nape; his aim had been a little low. Still, it had the desired result. Reggie tried not to smirk but failed, ducking down behind Jughead, who sat in front of him.

"Dude," he heard him mutter, "you're toast."

"Shut up!" Reggie hissed, but he caught Betty's blue eyes searching for the culprit, and relished the moment when they landed on him. Her eyes flitted off of him for a second, then darted back.

"Reggie!" she hissed. "Quit it!"

"Excuse me? What's the matter, Betty?" She picked up the offending ammunition and handed it to him. His eyes scanned the back of the room, since this wasn't his first rodeo. He wasn't surprised at all to find Reggie Mantle's eyes quickly darting away from his.

"Reggie," he said flatly.

"What?" Reggie asked innocently. "I didn't throw it!"

"Did, too!" Betty insisted, pouting and folding her arms.

"Did not!" He looked around furtively. "It was probably Jug!"

"HEY!" Jughead roused himself from his doze and jerked himself around in his seat. "Was NOT!"

"Reggie, see me after class." The whole room erupted into a droning unison of "OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Reggie pouted and hunched back over his desk. Betty turned and faced front again while their teacher went back to his math lesson.

Reggie didn't have guitar lessons or basketball that afternoon, anyway. It was worth it.

*

Betty browsed the sticker display, slowly spinning the rack and scanning the assortment of shinies, puffies, smellies and fuzzies while Veronica contemplated the individual rolls.

"I have this one already," she said, showing Betty a roll of holographic laser stickers that were almost blinding to look at. She pointed to the unicorn trailing a rainbow from its horn.

"Trade you?"

"No. I like that one."

"I have the one with the hearts?" Betty prodded.

"Eh... nah." Betty considered getting the unicorn one, but her mother only gave her a five-spot to buy a box of Valentines with, and she already picked out a pack. With sales tax, she would be shy ten cents, not quite able to buy one of the pricey stickers. The girls spent an hour at Veronica's going through their sticker albums, and it yielded some great trades.

"My mom's making cookies with sprinkles for the party," Betty told her.

"My daddy's going to order some ice cream pop's from the Choklit Shoppe," Veronica bragged. Of course he was. Veronica, as usual, had to top everybody. "Archie said he likes the chocolate ones." Bitterly, Betty wondered if Mr. Lodge was buying all chocolate ones. 

Valentine's Day was still kinda fun, and yet... it kinda wasn't. It was fun to pick out the cards, and Betty had no problem with the barrage of sweets when they had the class party. Twenty of your peers giving you a card asking you to be their Valentine, whether they liked you or not, was fine with her, but at the same time, there was nothing SPECIAL about it. That irked her.

Her sister Polly was married now, and Betty occasionally babysat her little nephew when she drove home with her husband, needing a "mister-and-missus date" with just the two of them. Polly and her husband would get all dolled up, dressed to the nines, and they would go to a nice restaurant that didn't have menus that you could color on. Polly would sometimes let Betty try on whatever gift of jewelry she got for the occasion, and Betty grew wistful, wondering if anyone would ever "LIKE HER, like her" enough to want to marry her, and to be her Valentine all year 'round.

There was still something so terrifying about talking to boys, sometimes. The exception was Jug, who was clueless about girls, anyway, and the closest thing she had to a brother (if you didn't count her actual brother, Chick). He didn't make her feel tongue-tied, but he didn't get her heart pumping, either.

There was no point in trying to hide it from him that she was crazy about his best friend, either, even if he didn't call her on it (well, maybe once) or tease her about it (well, not much). Betty couldn't resist the temptation to ask him the inevitable questions.

"So, what've you and Arch been up to?"

"Playin' Pac-Man. Playin' ball. Stuff. Throwin' a Frisbee with Hot Dog."

"Does he ever, uh... ask about... anybody?" Her mouth always went dry, prompting an awkward swallow and her eyes flitting away when he gave her a prying look.

"Anybody, WHO?"

"Anybody... like, GIRL anybody?"

"Yeah, yeah," he would admit with some disgust. "He always talks about Veronica. Blah, blah, blah... gross."

"Oh."

Feeling like her heart was plummeting down into her shoes didn't get any better with repetition.

 

The girls finished their shopping and headed their separate ways in time for dinner. True to her claim with Veronica that afternoon, Betty and her mother made sugar cookies with sprinkles and cinnamon red hots. Betty molded a hunk of dough into the shape of an uneven, lumpy 'A,' then squished it up after a moment. It wouldn't impress him, anyway...

*

Valentine's Day arrived with the same strange, heady expectation when she woke up that morning. Betty instinctively put on her favorite pink sweatshirt and a pair of jeans that had pink flowers on the pockets, getting herself psyched up for the holiday. She knew Veronica would wear red of some kind, but that went without saying; it was her lucky color.

She woke up to heart-shaped pancakes at breakfast and accepted a kiss from her dad, as well as the small bouquet of pink and white carnations by her plate. 

"Don't come home engaged to anyone," her father joked.

"We're not ready to marry you off quite yet. We're still paying off Polly's wedding," her mother added with her hand on her hip. She threw Betty a wink. Her day started off on a good note, to Betty's credit. She took the tupperware box of cookies with her and biked to school, taking the long way so she could ride past Archie's house.

She caught him three blocks ahead of her, skateboarding to school with Jug, but she chose not to announce herself. It was nice to just... look at him. Archie didn't make any concession to the holiday with what he wore, but he had on his blue jacket that matched his eyes. That made her smile.

Archie finally turned around and noticed her as she parked her bike in the rack and locked it up. "Hey, sneak!" he scolded, grinning. 

"Hey, Arch." Her cheeks flushed, sending those annoying prickles over her flesh.

"What's in the box? Cookies?"

"Ooh. I want one!" Jug was reaching for the lid, but she swatted his hand away.

"NO. Wait for the party!"

"But... but... it's gonna be so loooooo-ho-honnnnnggggg! No fair!" His voice was a whine, accompanied by a little stomp of his foot. She shook her head without sympathy.

"Sorry, Charlie."

"You're gonna let me have one, though, right?" Archie's eyes were twinkling. Her resolve faltered, and her fingers itched to open up the lid...

"Yoo-hoo! Betty! HI, ARCHIEKINS!" They were interrupted by a familiar honk as Veronica pulled up to the pavement in her dad's Rolls. She hopped out and her driver, Wilson, parked along the curb and carried two large bakery boxes behind her.

"You can take those to the cafeteria, Wilson. It's that way," she said, pointing to the side entrance.

"Very good, Miss Veronica."

"What'd you bring?" Jug demanded, eyes wide.

"Ice cream pops from Pop's," she bragged. "Chocolate ones, too," she added, staring pointedly at Archie.

"Don't supposed I could sample one-"

"Don't be goofy, Juggie," she snapped, before looping her arm through Betty's and tugging her away.

"Daddy gave me roses at breakfast."

"What color?"

"Twenty-five RED ones."

"Wow." Must be nice, she didn't add. "You do love red." And sure enough, she had on her red monogrammed sweater with black corduroy slacks and turtle neck. Red ribbon barrettes held her hair back from her face, and her lips were rosy with strawberry lip gloss.

"Let's go see what Ethel and Nancy brought," Veronica told her." Betty's chance to win Archie over with her baking vanished, just like that.

*

The afternoon went about the same. Every opportunity Betty had to try to talk to or impress Archie evaporated every time Veronica showed up, until second recess. Veronica dragged her into a game of tag with the boys, and Betty decided to follow along, even though she hated running in her winter boots. They were all trying to evade Moose, which was a wise move; he always tagged too hard. Midge was one of the only girls fast enough to outrun him or tag him back, something that always mystified Betty. Ethel reluctantly joined in, and she was a fast runner, too, but Betty heard Reggie once joking that she only played so she could have a reason to chase boys. 

He could be such a jerk, she fumed.

The air was still cold by mid-February, enough that Betty's breath came out in misty little puffs as she ran. The snow on the ground was shallow and mud-dappled, littered with hundreds of boot prints before the fresh flakes could fill them in.

She evaded Moose, only for him to tag Reggie. He skidded away with a low "ooph!" as Moose shoved him. "IT!" Moose crowed before he darted off. But Reggie was good at tag, something Betty often regretted when she played against him, and often times, she ended up being "it" herself for the duration of the game against him. He was a slippery sneak. She watched him sizing up the field, already considering Ethel, and he ran at her...

...only to double back and tag Betty instead. The tag was a smart little shove in the shoulder, and her face was indignant.

"YOU'RE IT!" he cried.

"Ooooooooh...!" She threw up her hands. "YOU!"

"You're still it," he teased. She wanted to smack the grin off his face, and he was still crowing as she ran after him at a good clip. She considered easier targets. She could tag Jughead easily enough, but he would likely claim "I'm not even playing and hover around the sidelines. That had worked well enough with Ethel, and Betty remembered her growl of disappointment. If she tagged Ronnie, she would never forgive her. Archie was... tempting. Oh, so tempting, and his smile was already teasing her, an I-dare-you look if she ever saw one.

Yet... Reggie... darn him. She had to tag him back. _She had to tag him BACK._

She chased him until her legs and lungs burned, boots feeling heavier on her feet as she plodded through the shallow snow. She could nearly catch him, and he would slant his body just out of her reach, skidding to short stops that she barely averted herself from colliding into, only for him to speed off again. 'Round and 'round they went, even when the other players were the easier potential "its." 

But it wouldn't be as satisfying as catching Reggie and tagging him it. She longed to see the look of defeat on his smug face. Just once, she had to catch him, darn it, just once...

The recess bell rang sharply, and all of them paused for one breathless second. Including Reggie, whose dark eyes widened when he realized that she was practically on top of him, even with that brief stop. 

They collided in a teeth-rattling thud. Betty's forehead went bashing into his upper lip, grazing his teeth. Throbbing pain exploded between them with the sudden impact, and she staggered back, stunned and holding her head.

"Doggone it, Reg! OW!"

"You hit ME!" he bellowed back. "Ow... geez, Betty... ow. I'm bleeding..." he muttered, drawing away red fingertips from his mouth. Veronica hurried to Betty's side and checked her over.

"Ew, GROSS!" Sure enough, Betty had a matching wound on her forehead, which just started to drip, staining her mitten when she instinctively touched it. Her skin throbbed, and she was so annoyed at Reggie.

"You just didn't want me to beat you," she groused as Veronica dragged her off the playground.

"Not on your best day, Cooper. That didn't count. You're still 'it.'"

"Ooh! JERK!"

*

So, that was how she ended up back in class, passing out her Valentines to each mailbox with a great big band-aid on her forehead with a slowly darkening bruise appearing around the edges. Reggie sulked in the back of the room with a small ice pack against his swelling lip, fiddling with a small scrap of paper. He'd already passed out his, and pretty quickly; Betty felt guilty when he wouldn't meet her eyes as he passed her desk, dropping the tiny red envelope into the box. His expression was sullen, though, and she felt a pang of guilt. Her eyes flitted away until he retreated.

Their teacher lined them up single file to fill their plates with treats, and predictably, Jughead threw up a wail of protest when he was told "Just ONE!" as he approached each offering. A smug grin pulled at Betty's lips when he bit into her cookie and gave her an enthusiastic thumbs-up.

Archie, on the other hand, devoted his full attention to the chocolate ice cream bar, fighting the battle against the fudge drips rolling down its sides. Her cookie was heaped under the rest of the selections, barely visible under a pile of chocolate covered pretzels. Betty released an exasperated breath. Veronica looked very smug and pleased.

Betty’s eyes drifted back to Reggie. His lip looked like it hurt. He glanced up from an argument he was having with Moose over the merits of getting a Colecovision console to replace his Atari when he felt her eyes on him. She quickly averted her eyes, feeling her nape prickle. 

She tried to avoid staring at him when he got up and sauntered past, to help himself to some orange soda. She sat there, breaking a pretzel into bits, trying not to make it look too obvious that she was eavesdropping on Veronica’s boast that her daddy bought another two dozen ice cream pops for them to enjoy at home in an attempt to entice Archie.

She startled at the sound of a crumpled piece of paper landing in her snack plate. She picked it up just after Reggie brushed past her, returning to his argument about Frogger being a cooler game than Burger Time. She picked up the scrap gingerly, hoping it wasn't a spitball. But she unrolled it and noticed dim pencilled scrawl.

Sorry.

She basked in the surprise for a few moments, then tucked the note in her pocket.

*

After the final bell, Betty sidestepped Veronica as she emptied her cubby and hurried out into the hallway. Reggie was up ahead of her, skateboard tucked under his arm already. She ignored Ronnie’s indignant squeak and pursued him. He was tugging on his helmet and tightening the strap as she caught up to him. She called out to him as she unlocked her bike. “Reg! Reggie! WAIT!” He didn’t seem to hear her. Betty grumbled under her breath and ran with her bike, mounting it as it rolled. She pedaled after him as he kick-pushed his way down the plowed sidewalk.

“Reggie!” she snapped from alongside him. “Hey.” He glanced at her without losing his footing, but he didn't slow down, either.

“Hey.”

“I saw your note.”

“No, duh,” he teased, smirking. “It was right in your face.” She wanted to abandon her good intentions, but she plowed ahead.

“I’m sorry I banged into you. Sorry about your lip.”

That stopped him. He skidded and tripped off his board, neatly kicking it up into his hand. She coasted beside him while he walked. “Does it look bad?” He sounded worried. He stuck out his reddened, puffy lip, and she made a thoughtful noise.

“Not that bad,” she assured him. “Just looks like Moose hit you again.” Reggie rolled his eyes and motioned like he was about to shove her, but she ducked, grinning. “I am sorry, though.”

“Yeah. No big deal, I guess.” They kept walking, somewhat companionably, resuming the Atari game debate for six blocks until they reached Reggie’s intersection.

“You would've still been it,” Reggie teased as he got back on his board and rode off.

“Dream on, Mantle!”


End file.
